by Inara Scott
Portia had raised Garrett and his brother, Max, ever since their mother abandoned them at the Manor when Garrett was eight. Still, she was hardly the maternal type. Relentless business tycoon? Absolutely. Caring parental stand-in? Not so much.
Garrett didn’t like to leave Lexi alone with her for too long.
Meanwhile, he hadn’t planned to stay at the club for more than an hour the night before, so he had a pile of reading waiting at home. He had a deal he wanted to close this week on a resort property in Bali, and he’d finally found a potential buyer for an underperforming office complex in New Jersey.
So why were his thoughts still traveling back to Kaia? Her unusual features that bespoke some foreign heritage; her voice, with its impossible-to-place accent. There was something special about her. Something he didn’t know how to categorize.
He washed his body vigorously with the tiny hotel soap. Even now, he felt himself wanting to make excuses for her. To come up with some reason why she might have disappeared without a trace. An urgent phone call, perhaps, or an accident while she was out getting coffee. He knew the thought was absurd. Yes, they’d had incredible, mind-blowing sex, and yes, she was smart and beautiful and wholly unexpected. But that meant nothing when he looked at the checkout receipt and knew he’d been right from the start.
He shrugged off the disappointment and told himself it didn’t matter. He’d been learning not to trust since he was a child. As a young man, he had encountered legions of women who were more interested in his money and status than any unique turn of his mind. And, of course, he’d always suspected that Max’s wife had gotten pregnant purely as a way to trap Max into marrying her—their marriage had fallen apart just months after it started. Max was simply too committed to his daughter to seek a divorce.
It would be absurd to say that Garrett believed all women were heartless and mercenary. After all, he’d come to appreciate Ted’s fiancée, Rachel, and her matchmaking had introduced him to more than a few do-gooders who seemed to have genuinely kind hearts. Yet for some reason the combination of his money and looks always seemed to change women and bring out the worst in them. He’d given up fighting it years ago. Portia said that trust was dangerous, and Garrett knew she was right. He had only to look at his brother, and the sole remaining picture he had of his mother, to know that.
Now he could add a $5,000 hotel bill and a souvenir dress as further evidence.
Garrett turned off the shower and toweled himself dry. He dressed in his clothes from the night before, and stopped for a moment to pick up the silvery garment reflecting the light from the rising sun.
As he headed outside, he laughed at his own naiveté in thinking, even for a minute, that he and Kaia had shared something special. An old joke he’d often told Ted came to his mind: trusting a woman in the bedroom was like trusting a lawyer in the boardroom. It could only lead to disaster.
Chapter Seven
As Kaia flew toward the Faerie Gate, one of the numerous entries to Faeria scattered throughout the human world, she saw her sister Handmaids, Mina, Talia, and Analise, gathered outside. Talia was zipping around the meadow, frowning, while Analise was hugging herself and gazing nervously at the sky. Mina paced in front of the Gate, stopping every few feet to tap her foot impatiently.
Kaia’s heart caught. “You told them, didn’t you?” she said to the imp, who flew close to her side.
Imps were terrible gossips. Kaia could imagine he’d told every Fey creature he could find exactly what errand Zafira had sent him on. After all, everyone enjoyed seeing Zafira hand out her punishments.
Everyone, that is, except the unfortunate creature being punished.
The imp’s mouth dropped open, and he looked for all the world like a wounded innocent. “I did no such thing.”
Kaia snorted and yanked on a tuft of his curly blond hair. “Liar.”
“Ouch!” He rubbed his head and blinked his round, blue eyes at her. “I don’t talk to Handmaids, Faerie,” he reproved. “I wasn’t lying. If someone else told your friends something, I’ve got no control over that.”
“Oh, that’s nice. It isn’t enough that I have to seduce lawyers—now I’ve got imps that want to talk like them, too?”
“Hmph.” He patted one stubby horn and straightened his hair before sticking his nose into the air. “I don’t have to take this abuse. You’ll have to answer to Zafira anyway.”
Kaia froze, the very thought of Zafira sending a violent shudder through her body. She refused to let the imp see her panic. She did have some self-respect left.
Kaia steeled herself for an onslaught of questions as she landed beside the Gate. To a passing human who did not know about or believe in the Fey, the Gate would have been invisible. The careless eye would only have seen the trunk of a particularly tall, gnarled oak tree. To the eye of one who knew what to look for, the tree trunk clearly sheltered a door, at least seven feet in height, intricately carved with images of the Fey—water nymphs, imps and boggles, dryads with their trees, and pixies luring men through the woods. Above all of them stood a faerie queen, her head adorned by a crown of flowers, the Willow Scepter in her hand.
As soon as Talia caught sight of Kaia, she flew down to tell Mina and Analise. The three faeries crowded anxiously around the Gate, and as soon as Kaia landed, each took turns folding her in their arms.
Worry marked their faces, and they darted tense looks between Kaia and the imp.
“What?” he finally said, hovering at shoulder height among the tall faeries.
“You’ve summoned her,” Talia said, her expression a picture of disgust. “Now, isn’t there somewhere else you need to be? Some gossip left to spread? I heard there’s a pixie who’s just arrived at court. Maybe you should run and tell her what happened.”
The imp stuck out his tongue. “I just deliver the messages, Faerie, I don’t make them. And by the way, you’ve got some berries between your teeth. I hope you haven’t been walking around all day like that. How embarrassing.” He turned to Kaia. “Queen Zafira will be holding court in one hour. I would not make her wait.”
With that, he pushed his way between Mina and Analise, and approached the Gate. As if sensing his presence, the enormous door swung slowly inward and he slipped inside.
As soon as the Gate had closed behind him, Talia’s hand flew to her mouth. “Stupid, lying little imp.” She turned to Mina and bared her teeth. “He was lying, wasn’t he?”
Mina sighed. “Yes, Talia, he was. And you should know better than to be rude to the queen’s imp.”
Talia shook her head, sending waves of black hair rippling down her naked back. She wore a sleek, halter-style dress of golden silk that caressed the voluptuous curve of her breasts and ended halfway down her thighs. “I hate imps. They’re one step removed from demons. I have no idea why Zafira tolerates them in Faeria.”
“Because they’re Fey just like you and me,” Analise said in her gentle, breathy voice. Her gown was no less sensual than Talia’s, a flow of sheer white cloth revealing the outlines of her delicate limbs. “And she is the queen of Faeria.”
“Which means,” Talia pointed out, “that she can do whatever she wants.”
“Which means,” Analise corrected, “that she has a responsibility to care for all her subjects, including the imps. Faeria is the court for all the Fey. The imps belong here, as do the rest of us.”
“Can we just forget about the imp?” Kaia interrupted, tired of the sniping.
The Handmaids swung back around to stare at her, and Kaia regretted opening her mouth. Mina and Talia bickered all the time, and no one bothered to stop them. Now, with all eyes on her, Kaia knew the time had come to tell them the truth.
“Which brings up an excellent point,” Mina said, eyes narrowed. “What happened to you? All we heard from that horrible creature was that Zafira was furious, a Handmaid had lost control with a man, and the imp was bringing her to Faeria for punishment.”
Mina wore a pair of snug capri pants
with a matching camisole top in rich autumn tones, setting off her shock of curly red hair and creamy white skin. A tiny emerald sparkled from her belly button.
Kaia turned around, closing her eyes and trying to block out the image of Garrett, his lean body sprawled out on the white hotel sheets. Goosebumps sprung up on her arms and she ran her hands along them. This Gate was not far from Florida, in a remote, densely wooded area humans called the Ozarks. The air was hot and moist, but Kaia felt as if she were freezing from the inside out.
She considered Mina’s question: What had happened? She remembered Garrett’s mouth traveling over the naked flesh of her thigh, and her own abandoned response.
When’s the last time you screamed? he had asked her. Never, she’d thought to herself.
That was no longer true. When Garrett made love to her she screamed with a release so overwhelming she could not think, could not move, could not begin to control the pleasure that ricocheted through her body.
“It’s complicated,” she said, keeping her face hidden from her sisters.
Talia appeared in front of her in an instant, eyes wide, hair flying behind her like a silky black mane. “Complicated? You can’t be serious. We assumed you’d been set up by some lying boggle. We were worried about how to clear your name, Kaia. It hadn’t occurred to us that he might be telling the truth. Zafira will never forgive you for this, especially if she’s got something against this guy.”
Kaia spun around to avoid Talia’s questions, fear gripping her chest at the enormity of what she faced. She tried for a calm voice, but a hard lump rose in her throat when she tried to speak. “I don’t... I mean I... ”
Mina smacked Talia on the shoulder. “For pity’s sake, shut up, Talia. You’re terrifying her.”
“Well it’s true,” Talia flared. “If she did something stupid with a man, I, for one, would like to know about it. This affects us all, Mina. You know that.”
“It affects us because we’re sisters and we care about each other,” Mina shot back. “Not because we intimidate and harass each other.”
Kaia’s teeth began to chatter. She suppressed the sound and forced her mouth to lie still, but her shoulders shook instead. “I didn’t think about you all. I’m so sorry.”
Talia’s anger dissolved in an instant, as it usually did after she lost her temper. She laid a hand on Kaia’s shoulder. “No, I’m sorry, Kaia. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”
Analise took Kaia’s hand and led her to a soft patch of grass. “Forget all that, lovey. We have an hour. Sit down and tell us what happened.”
Kaia tucked her wings against her back like a silky cape and collapsed into the earth, her body melting into the soft loam. She forced her body to be still. She would not panic, or cry, or run away. For one more hour, at least, she was a Handmaid, and she would carry herself as such. She would accept her punishment with all the dignity she could muster.
§
“I just can’t believe you let him do that.” Talia let out her breath on one long hiss. “The queen sent you out to bring this man to his knees, and then you turned around and let him do that to you.” She shook her head. “Madness. Absolute madness.”
Kaia shook her head. Talia still didn’t understand, and how could she? Faeries weren’t supposed to experience weakness and human emotion. Trying to describe how Garrett had broken down every barrier she set in front of him was like trying to describe a new color, or the taste of an exotic fruit. The right words simply didn’t exist.
As she told her story to the other Handmaids, her panic had evolved into a dark, fatalistic sense of dread. She had broken the queen’s most basic rule for dealing with men, and she would have to pay. The only question was how.
Silence fell over the group. Talia sat cross-legged, stroking the tip of her wings as she gazed at Kaia. Mina lay still, her hand flat over her face.
Surprisingly, it was Analise who spoke, as she wrapped and unwrapped a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “What was it like?” she asked in a very soft voice. “I mean, what did it feel like, when you… when he… ”
For all that they had seduced hundreds of men, the faeries rarely talked about their own bodies or their feelings about the act, and Kaia found her cheeks growing hot as she contemplated her answer.
Mina sat up and fixed a steely gaze on Kaia. “Tell her how it felt. Tell her you could give it up, now that you’ve had it.”
Before Zafira had picked her to become a Handmaid, Mina had lived among men for many years, giving and taking pleasure as she wished. Only she dared rail against Zafira’s strictures.
Kaia shook her head, unable to speak.
“Tell her,” Mina commanded.
Kaia cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I’ll never see him again.”
Chapter Eight
“Would you like a scone, Alexandra?” Portia spoke in her most lofty and elegant tones, the ones she reserved for visiting guests, clients, and the tearoom. She wore a spotless white silk shirt and long navy skirt that reached to her ankles. Her clothing, not by accident, surely, matched the pattern on her antique blue and white Spode china.
Garrett watched his young niece struggle to balance the teacup and saucer in one hand while she reached for the sugar. He suspected having a pastry or trying to converse would put her right over the edge.
He was right.
She looked up, and as she did the delicate porcelain angled slightly downward, sending tea sloshing over the edge to collect in the saucer below. Horror turned her delicate cheeks white. Lexi had the Jameson blue eyes, but her mother’s heart-shaped face and pointed chin. Her sweet, gamine features revealed every iota of feeling in her young body, and right now, they were all centered on one emotion.
Terror.
With good reason.
“Alexandra!” Portia lashed out. “Straighten your cup immediately. We will have no dribbling at tea!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, looking around desperately for a napkin. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Garrett took the cup from her hand and poured the tea from the saucer into his own cup. He mopped the remainder with a napkin and handed his niece back the cup. “No use crying over spilled tea,” he said, giving Lexi an encouraging smile. “Isn’t that right, Portia?”
He raised one eyebrow at his grandmother’s stern visage, feeling a familiar surge of protective anger. If he had his way, Lexi would have nothing to do with her dragon of a great-grandmother.
Portia scowled at Garrett. “She will never learn as long as you keep protecting her.” She turned back to Lexi. “Now. Sit straight. No slouching. We do not make promises we are going to break. Hold your teacup like a delicate flower—do not squeeze it like a tube of toothpaste. Keep your elbows in. You aren’t a chicken. And you don’t need sugar. Real ladies do not use sugar.”
Garrett allowed himself the brief fantasy of pouring his grandmother’s tea right on top of her carefully groomed head. “For heaven’s sake. She’s just a child.”
“She’s a child who needs to learn. When you were eight you were babysitting your brother, cleaning stables, and eating formal dinners with me and my clients. Alexandra can learn the same. Her mother sets a terrible example. If I didn’t intervene the child would have the manners of a street urchin.”
When Garrett was eight, he had just come to live at the Manor. He had been terrified of disappointing his new guardian—who had insisted on being called “Portia,” not “Grandmother”—his brother Max cried himself to sleep every night, and formal dinners were nothing short of torture. He wouldn’t wish his childhood on his worst enemy, let alone the niece he adored.
He ignored Portia completely. “Lexi, why don’t we go for a ride?”
Her face brightened. “Oh, I’d love to! Can I ride Sugar? I went to see her yesterday and Mr. Netti said she’s been waiting for me. He said she’s so fat they probably won’t even be able to get the girth aro
und her so I better get her out and exercised.” With a guilty look, she swung around to look at Portia. “I’ll finish tea first, of course.”
“You don’t have time to go for a ride,” Portia said to Garrett. “You have far too much work to do. I said I’d take care of the child and that’s what I intend to do.”
Lexi’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Uncle Garrett. I didn’t mean to make you late for work. I can go for a ride another time. Maybe this weekend.”
Garrett gritted his teeth at the way Portia had sown the seeds of guilt in her great-granddaughter. “Lexi, I’m telling you that I do have time. I came over just so I could see you. Why would I have done that if I didn’t have time?”
Portia had told him not to come today. She’d said she had plenty of activities planned for Alexandra, including her first formal tea. But Garrett could hardly leave his poor niece to battle Portia by herself all day. Besides, he needed to get out of the office. Despite the pile of work waiting on his desk, every time he closed the door and tried to concentrate all he could think about was Kaia, and the taste of her that still lingered on his tongue.
Had it only been eight hours since he’d woken up to an empty bed? And how long since he’d held her—twelve hours? Fourteen? He tried to remember if he’d checked the clock during the night, so he could figure out how long she’d stayed in the room with him. His mind stayed blank. No matter how hard he tried, all he could remember was that dream, when he’d seen her hovering above him with those damned wings shimmering around her like a beautiful halo.
A crazy dream. Truth be told, the entire night had been colored with madness. Why would the dreams that followed be any different?
“Garrett, I know what your week is like. I spoke to Mrs. Lyons this morning. You have meetings all afternoon and you’re supposed to be on a plane tomorrow morning for Chicago. We have that dinner on Thursday for the food bank, and you’ve got the keynote speech to write. And weren’t you going to meet with the governor’s chief of staff next week? On that wetlands issue? You simply do not have time to take the child on a pony ride this afternoon.”